


Devil Made Them Do It

by kleine_aster



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Corruption, Dubious Consent, Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-28 06:07:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kleine_aster/pseuds/kleine_aster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PWP-snippet. Bruce and Damian get corrupted into having sex, presumably in some weird fucknuts parallel universe where such a thing would ever happen in a million years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Devil Made Them Do It

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** Devil Made Them Do It  
>  **Pairing:** Bruce/Damian (SORRY GUISE)  
>  **Summary:** PWP-snippet. Bruce and Damian get corrupted into having sex, presumably in some weird fucknuts parallel universe where such a thing would ever happen in a million years.  
>  **Warnings:** Incest, dubcon, underage (Damian's age isn't mentioned, for that bit of extra wrongness, though I imagine he'd be aged up some)  
>  **Words:** 1,016  
>  **Notes:** I wrote this a while ago. It made me feel horribad, but I still kinda liked how it turned out because I'm an awful person. The reason I didn't post this earlier is actually that I didn't like how I made Talia a total villain in this, since I feel like she's been too demonized (no pun intended) in canon lately. Sorry, Talia, I know you're not all bad, you're only drawn that way!

" _Don't_ bring that filth into our bed," Damian snarls at him, closing his knees in a show of defiance. "I won't have something separating us. I will have _you_ , or I will have _nothing_."

His voice is absolute, his statement is deranged, and his choice of words makes Bruce's hardened flesh throb almost as if in pain.

He takes a look at the condom in his hand, takes a look at his boy, then tosses it aside.

He'd thought it'd be a sensible thing to offer. He'd thought it'd be one good habit he could familiarize him with. He also knows that he could command him to stop complaining and let him use it, for if there's one thing that Damian likes, it's getting orders from him and then being good at following them, but it's not as if … it's not as if they'd _need_ it.

"Have it your way," he says grimly, then watches Damian's wild, triumphant smile derail as he takes his legs and pries them apart.

It takes only one look to tell that the boy is crazy; whatever thin, frayed layer of sanity he might have possessed torn to shreds over one long, drug-filled, sweat-drenched weekend at his mother's house, where Talia had shown her detective that she hadn't only trained their son, she had _trained_ him.

Bruce has never figured out what she'd used on them; if it had been merely the aphrodisiacs, if it had been hypnosis, subliminal suggestion, unearthing his own innate twistedness, something else … all he knows it that he'd succumbed to it.

He can still hear her, _Take him,_ in that low, sweet, breezy voice of hers, while Damian was twisting and whimpering underneath him, whimpering not with terror, but with perverse _gratitude_. _Take him,_ she'd whispered, over and over, and he remembers how he knew, without looking at her, that she could reach orgasm without even touching herself, because Talia is simply _that_ good.

He also knows that, the moment he'd entered him, he'd gone irreparably insane, too.

After years of trying, Talia had finally succeeded in setting him the ultimate trap, by forging him the ultimate toy, tying the three of them together in depravity for all time.

He remembers Damian's hoarse wails. He must have been in _so much pain_ , but somehow, he'd also been in ecstasy, and his cries echo in Bruce's fevered mind, _Father_ , and again, _Father_ , again and again, until the word had lost its familiar meaning and turned into something else, something unholy, a dirty incantation that now never fails to make him hard.

Damian squirms even deeper into the sheets, his strong, wiry arms spread wide, welcoming him, his smooth hips grinding and rolling in anticipation of him. He shudders when Bruce grabs his waist, and his eyes glaze over as if the touch of his father's fingers alone could drive him to climax. Bruce buries his face against his hot skin. His son tastes like copper, his body feels like steel, his nipples get as hard as coins, his eyes burn mad and bright, and no-one can make Bruce come like he can, except perhaps for his mother.

The son reminds him of the mother in so many ways. There'd always been something dramatic, _operatic_ about sleeping with Talia, who conducted herself like a queen, always on top, treating every instance of sex like an earth-shattering, soul-melting encounter. And it had never been an act, it had all been her – someone who was ready to be consumed by her passions completely. Damian possesses the same heat, the same showiness, but in him, it's rougher, wilder, less refined, and with a strong streak of Wayne restraint that makes it even more maddening.

Having both of them at the same time was probably what had melted away the rest of Bruce's sound mind, forever. 

Damian stops moving and grows quiet and tense when his father kisses his bruised shins, then utilizes his tongue to give his twitching, eager cock some loving attention. Ever since that first weekend, Bruce has tried to implement more of this into their play; some softness, some sweetness, to show Damian that it's not all rapture and conquest and pain. It seems perverse, but it's the least he can do. 

Damian's breath gets caught in his throat, and he digs his heels into the mattress, hard. Bruce can tell that he's dying to have his mouth on him, but still isn't sure what to make of it. "What…," he whispers. He's always this hot-and-cold mixture of demanding and timid when he's with his father; it's intoxicating. "What are you …"

Bruce presses his warm hand on his heaving stomach to soothe him. "Quiet."

He takes his time, doesn't take him into his mouth right away. He tastes the salty skin as he kisses him. He laps at the sensitive tip with his rough tongue. A boy that young and hot-blooded can't possibly withstand that kind of treatment indefinitely. By the time Bruce starts actually sucking on him, Damian is thrashing desperately beneath him, a rough, nervous whimper coming from his lips. Bruce feels his own muscles clench as he realizes how close he himself is to completion, too. It takes that little.

He looks up at the boy, hand still cradling his belly. "You can come if you want to," he invites him. "You don't need to hold back."

"But – " His son almost seems insulted. "But … no, not before you've taken your pleasure," he insists, equal parts confused and aroused, "I'm supposed to please _you_."

Bruce rises up and grabs him by his neck to pull him close. Damian flinches a little as he presses his sticky lips on his mouth. But then he melts into it, returns the wet, filthy kiss, gives in to it completely. He takes Damian's hand and lets him feel his cock, lets him feel how hard and hot and slick it is. "You please me," he assures him, putting it into words he understands. And every syllable of that is horribly true.

The smile on his little demon's face is mad and beautiful.

"Yes, Father," he breathes, and then he falls back into the sheets with a sigh as Bruce bends down again to complete his dirty, glorious work.


End file.
